


Dancing

by musiclvr1112



Series: Friends to Lovers AU [8]
Category: Miraculous Ladybug
Genre: Dancing, F/M, Mild Language, chloe can't dance, they just friends being cute and supportive and i love this dynamic okay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-05-22
Updated: 2018-05-22
Packaged: 2019-05-10 03:07:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 940
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14728800
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musiclvr1112/pseuds/musiclvr1112
Summary: Chloe can't dance.





	Dancing

**Author's Note:**

> Feel free to read this as a oneshot on its own~  
> If you're reading the series, this takes place after "Stress Baking 1.0" and before "Rescue"

“Nath oh my goodness please stop.”

“Hm? I’m sorry I can’t hear you over the music. I’m afraid you’ll have to come join me over here if you want to talk to me.”

The redhead had the audacity to wink at her with that impish smirk of his while she glared daggers at him from her seat at the table. The table that he had just _abandoned_ her at, leaving her _alone_ , when the whole reason he was there in the first place was so she _wouldn’t_ be alone and uncomfortable.

“I know you can hear me; the music isn’t even that loud. It’s a symphony orchestra, not one of your underground rock bands.”

Still smiling, the artist rolled his eyes and walked back over to her, every step in time with the music. He snatched up her hand from the table, and before she had time to react, he was dragging her out to the dance floor.

“Whoa whoa hey, what do you think you’re doing?”

“Contrary to what you may think, Madame Bourgeois, you can and will have a very good time tonight, and that means dancing.” He spun to face her the second they were in the _absolute center_ of the dance floor and drew her up close to him, one hand holding hers and the other snaked around her waist. To any onlooker, it probably looked like an innocent hold, a natural position for a couple dancing, but in reality, the grip on her waist was a _trap_.

Bitch.

She only glared at him more. Nathaniel laughed and took a step back, dragging her with him. She stumbled, staring at the ground as she tried not to step on his feet. He only laughed harder at her frazzled expression.

“Sorry, did I catch you off guard?”

“ _No_ ,” she spat, “I—,” she stumbled again and then sighed and planted her feet, staring up at him stubbornly, “—I don’t know how to dance.”

He rolled his eyes, clearly amused. “Right, _sure_ ,” he drawled sarcastically. “ _Chloé Bourgeois doesn’t know how to dance_. Come on,” he pulled her into some sort of spin and she hurriedly fumbled, trying to get her feet underneath her before falling. She was only somewhat successful, forcing him to swoop down to catch her. “Holy shit,” he said, all sarcasm now vacant from his tone, “you don’t know how to dance.”

She finally stood up straight again and glared at him, an annoyed pout in her lip. “Correct.”

He chuckled. “No wonder you hate these events.”

“Well, there’s that. And I don’t really like the people.” Chloé glanced around them, glad to see that the patrons were too caught up in their champagne to notice the hotel manager/heiress stumbling around on the dance floor like an ostrich with three left feet. She had attended every single one of these stupid formal events that the hotel hosted since she could walk, and never in her life had she enjoyed a single one. Not even in the previous few years when she’d brought dates.

Being single this time around, she’d been debating who to bring when Nathaniel had volunteered.

_“You know you’ll have to dress formally, right?” she asked with a brow raised._

_His response had been to smile and roll his eyes. “Yes, I am aware.”_

_“I thought you were too cool to dress up or something.”_

_“Maybe seeing you in your business attire every day is getting to me.”_

_“Do you even have a tux?”_

_“Somewhere hidden in some closet, yeah. I even have a tie.”_

_She’d waved him off then. “Don’t worry about a tie, I’ll get you one that matches my dress.”_

_“Wait, I have to go with_ you _?”_

_She proceeded to punch him._

Looking at him now, she had to admit, he cleaned up nicely, as jarring as the sight was. His shoulder-length fiery red mane of hair looked less wild than normal, gelled back so that only a few deviant strands hung in his face, and he’d even taken out his piercings for the occasion—though not the eyebrow one, which she was strangely thankful for, as it kept him looking more like him. His suit was surprisingly well-tailored to his figure, making her wonder if it was somewhat new or if he just hadn’t grown in years. He had ditched the suit jacket back at the table and now looked so strangely classy in his white button up, black vest, and the blue tie she had secured around his neck.

She liked it. She couldn’t deny that he looked damn good like that.

But she also strangely…really missed seeing his hair out and untamed, all of his piercings in, and dressed in ragged, paint-stained clothes that toed the line between hipster fashion and homelessness.

He smiled an award-winning smile as he took her up in his arms again, preparing to dance some more. “Well screw all those other people. I’m your date tonight and I’m here to make sure you have a good time, so Chloé Bourgeois, I say it’s time you learn to dance.”

She stared at him and sighed, all of the stubborn energy sinking out of her the longer she looked at those pretty teal eyes. It had been a long, exhausting day getting everything together for this event and she was in a crabby mood, but just looking at the positive, confident expression of her best friend as he subtly swayed her with the music, well…

She deserved to relax.

“Okay, Kurtzberg,” she relented, gently resting a hand on his shoulder while the other gave his hand a squeeze, “teach me how to dance.”


End file.
